


Legacy

by mariatyler



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariatyler/pseuds/mariatyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose take a trip on a cruise ship in the future, but there are many surprises in store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

"Seriously? You mean it?" Rose asked, grabbing hold of his arm in her excitement.

The Doctor beamed down at her, pleased that she was pleased with his choice of destination. "Oh yes," he assured her.

For the last few days, Rose had been angling for a voyage on some sort of boat. She didn't care what sort of boat, she'd said, but she wanted a trip on one. Her only previous experience had been a ferry to Calais on a school trip, and she'd lamented the shortness of the journey.

 

The Doctor had been thinking carefully about her request, trying to come up with something impressive. His first thought was to take her sailing, possibly somewhere hot and Caribbeanesque, but then he considered that he mightn't be any good at that, and he'd hate to ruin their trip by sailing the boat into rocks or something.

So then he'd thought about a cruise ship. And not just any old cruise, but a cruise on a different planet – a cruise in the future.Yes, he'd thought to himself. That would do nicely.

So here they were, on Dex II, a planet colonised by humans thousands of years into Rose's future. Standing beside the docks, tickets in his hand, queuing for the ship.

"Thank you," she grinned. "I do have a question, though."

"Go on."

"Well. We're thousands of years in the future, right? And these people are all human."

"Yep – although I expect there are also some part-human, part-other-species here too; you know what you lot are like, dancing your way through space - "

"Yeah, all right," she interrupted quickly. "Anyway, my question is actually this: why are we all dressed like we're from the turn of the nineteenth century?"

The Doctor's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes, well, there's a very interesting reason for that, Rose Tyler, I'm glad you asked. You see, humans can be a bit nostalgic at times. It's really quite remarkable how many 'vintage' eras come back into fashion over and over again – in terms of clothes and art and architecture and even music. It just so happens that those British men and women who colonised Dex II did so at a point when this look was all the rage again – along with the values of the time, too. You'd be surprised at how the - outward - prudishness of their Victorian ancestors crops up so far into the future."

Rose was listening to his explanation attentively, fascinated by the quirks of human nature. "So these people are all chastity, corsets and petticoats, are they?" she remarked with a raised eyebrow.

The Doctor chuckled. "Well, put it this way, I suspect there will be a few disapproving looks sent in our direction."

"What? Because we're unmarried travelling companions?" she asked, glancing around them and noticing that all the young women who didn't have husbands were accompanied by older women, no doubt acting as chaperones.

"Exactly," he replied. "However much we reassure them of our friendship-only status, I suspect they won't quite believe us."

"Mmm. Pity, that," Rose muttered under her breath, with a small and very secret smile. She found a strange sense of pleasure at the idea of unwittingly causing a scandal. People thinking that her and the Doctor were having an illicit love affair was the closest she was ever going to get to actually having an illicit love affair with the oblivious Time Lord, after all.

"But! You picked the perfect dress, so you'll fit in in that respect, at least."

"I can't help but notice that you're still in your suit, though," Rose pointed out, folding her arms.

"Weellll," he replied, sniffing. "Perhaps I'll pack a few changes of clothes, but for the most part I think I'll be able to blend in well enough wearing this."

Rose rolled her eyes and grinned, linking her arm through his. "So hang on. I don't fancy waiting in this queue for hours for them to get everyone on board. Why don't we take the TARDIS and park it in a laundry cupboard or something on the ship, and then find our designated room?"

"Rose Tyler, are you suggesting that we abuse our privilege as space-and-time-travellers to skip the queue? How very un-British of you."

She gave him a cheeky grin. "Please?"

"Oh, definitely," he replied, steering her out of the queue and back towards the TARDIS. "We have to pack some more things, anyway. You can't wear that dress every day of a seventeen-day voyage; it would be a fashion faux-pas, that."

"Seventeen days?"

"Yep, that's how long it takes to cross the Beriomo Sea to the other continent."

Rose grinned. "This is gonna be interesting. I hope neither of us discover we suffer from seasickness."

"Nah, not us," he grinned back, opening the TARDIS doors for her.

"Are you impressed, then?" he asked eagerly, as they exited the TARDIS sometime later. They had parked, like Rose had suggested, in a linen closet, and were making their way down the corridor, trying to find their room. "I've given you the future so that the ship is top-notch technology-wise and so probably has a minimal risk of sinking, but with an element of the past to make it more exciting."

"You've done very well," she placated him with a laugh, patting his arm.

"Good," he smiled. "Aha! Here we go. Room 117." He unlocked the door with his sonic screwdriver, and they quickly entered, depositing their luggage onto the floor just inside the doorway.

"Oh, wow," she gasped, turning herself in a circle to take in the contents of the room. "I feel like I'm on the Titanic or something."

"Don't say that," he muttered. "We don't need to jinx the voyage quite this early on."

She bounded over to the four-poster bed. "Oh my god," she exclaimed, flopping herself onto it and bouncing a little. "This is so posh."

"Well, we are in the first class section of the ship," he replied, taking off his coat and hanging it on a nearby stand. "We're Sir Doctor and Dame Rose, after all."

Rose sighed happily and sat back up straight. "Thanks, Doctor."

"You're welcome," he replied, leaning against the wardrobe and watching her glance around, taking it all in.

Then Rose seemed to realise something, for she turned to look at him curiously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Well, I s'pose you've realised that there's only one bed," she replied carefully.

"I don't sleep as much as you," he shrugged. "If I need a nap to recharge my batteries then I can always take the chaise longue."

She nodded. "If you're sure you don't mind..."

He rolled his eyes. "Well I'm hardly going to make you sleep on the floor, am I?" he retorted.

"Well if it gets too uncomfy," she began casually. "Then you can share the bed with me, if you want. It's not like we've never had to share one before."

The Doctor swallowed and tried to seem as nonchalant in his response as she had been, "Well, we'll see."

She was right, of course; they had shared a bed before. If they got caught up in an adventure and had to stay overnight somewhere at the last minute and there was only one bed available. Or on the rarer occasion that one of them had a nightmare whilst sleeping on the TARDIS, and found the other for a comforting - but purely friendly - midnight cuddle, which led to the accidental falling-asleep-in-the-wrong-bed thing.

But recently they'd been getting closer, and closer, and closer, and he was quite certain that if any bed-sharing were to happen under the present circumstances, neither of them would feel it feasible to continue their relationship in a strictly platonic sense any longer.

Which was pretty scary, because however much he knew they fancied each other, he didn't think he was quite ready to admit such a thing to her out loud.

Sleeping on the chaise longue would be much, much safer.


End file.
